


More Than Words

by thealphagate_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-09
Updated: 2006-08-09
Packaged: 2019-02-02 07:38:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12722367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphagate_archivist/pseuds/thealphagate_archivist
Summary: Jack and Daniel have lunch and some truths are revealed.  Spoilers for season 9's Stronghold.





	More Than Words

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the archivists: this story was originally archived at [The Alpha Gate](https://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Alpha_Gate), a Stargate SG-1 archive, which began migration to the AO3 in 2017 when its hosting software, eFiction, was no longer receiving support. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are this creator and it hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Alpha Gate collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/thealphagate).

  
Author's notes: More than Words  
  
In honor of Kindness in Fandom Day (August 10), this snippet is dedicated specifically to MA for her warmth, generosity, and laughter, and dedicated generally to my Alpha Gate list sibs for the same reasons. Where else can one talk about politics, language, poetry, geography, and cats all at the same time?  


* * *

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Daniel responded automatically. He looked up quickly when he realized who it was. “Hey, what the hell are you doing here?” 

“You know, Daniel,” Jack sighed, “for a linguist your vocabulary is sadly lacking.”

“What? How—lacking?

“The last time I came into your office you said the same thing. Do you think you could, you know, come up with something a little more…cordial, welcoming,” Jack cast a glare at Daniel, “polite.”

“Oh, um…sorry. I’m just surprised to see you.” Daniel pushed his glasses back up his nose and looked at Jack thoughtfully. “Let me try it again.” Daniel stood up, walked across the room, and stood before Jack.

“Jack, it’s so nice to see you! I’m glad you took time out of you busy schedule to drop by. To what, pray chance, do I owe the honor of this visit?”

Jack looked at the shit-eating grin in front of him. “Putz.”

“You wanted linguistic legerdemain, you got it.”

“I think I liked you better the first time.”

“I figured. So, let me go back--Jack, what the hell are you doing here?”

Jack returned Daniel’s smile with one of his own. “Came to see Landry. Whatcha doin’ here?” Jack said pointing at the pile of papers stacked up by Daniel’s computer.

“And you criticize my opening lines? I don’t that half those words are even English.” Daniel moved back to sit back behind his desk. “Do you talk that way to people at the Pentagon?”

Jack snaked his leg around a stool to pull it out and sat on the other side of the desk. “They don’t have any snarky archeologists at the Pentagon.”

“Sure they do. They just avoid you.”

“Me? What for?”

Daniel looked at him with a slightly bemused expression on his face.

Jack decided to change tactics. “So whatcha doin’ here?”

Daniel sighed. “If you really want to know, I’m working on a report for SG9. They’re scheduled to finalize a treaty on P3R 277 on Tuesday and General Landry wants the preliminary report by 1600 today. I’m trying to put together a list of cultural idiosyncrasies that SG9 needs to be aware of. Did you know, for instance, that unlike on earth, putting out your hand is not considered an act of friendship, it’s actually…” When Daniel took a moment to look up he could see Jack, a glazed expression on his face, making a paper airplane out of one of the many papers Daniel had strewn all over his desk. 

“Jack? Are you listening to me?”

“What?”

“You--General O’Neill--wanted to know what I was doing?” 

“Oh…yeah.” To Daniel’s relief, Jack put the paper back down on the desk and unfolded it. “You want some lunch?”

Daniel sighed again and shook his head. He wondered if Jack ever behaved this way at top level meetings. He had this sudden urge to ask Jack if he had a yo-yo in his pocket but thought better of it, just in case. “Sure. Lunch is good.”

####

“You gonna try the meatloaf?” Jack asked putting a large serving of meatloaf and mashed potatoes on his tray.

“Only if I have a death wish,” Daniel mumbled under his breath. Jack didn’t seem to hear him because he was still busy peering into the dessert display. 

“Try the meatloaf, Daniel. It’s great.”

So much for Jack not hearing him. Daniel eyed the meatloaf suspiciously before giving in and taking the smallest serving of meatloaf he could find. Jack’s head was still level with the dessert shelf.

“What are you looking for?” Daniel asked.

“Blue Jell-O,” Jack said reaching his hand all the way to the back. “I don’t think they have any.”

“Sometimes being a general isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, is it,” Daniel chuckled, “if you can’t get blue Jell-O.”

“You’d think since Carter works here the cooks in the kitchen would have a constant supply of blue Jell-O.”

“They’re safe. Sam’s out of town for a couple of days, presenting a paper at the Academy I think.” Daniel said.

“Yeah, I know,” Jack said absently, his mind still on the desserts.

“There’s pie,” Daniel offered pointing a little farther down the row.

Jack’s eyes lit up. “Ooooh pie,” he said grabbing a large piece of lemon meringue.

“Does Homer Simpson know you stole his line?”

“Homer Simpson doesn’t say ‘Ooooh, pie,’ he says ‘Ooooh, donuts.’” 

“I stand corrected.”

“Yes, you do.” Jack said setting his tray down on a nearby table. “How could you not know that after all the years you’ve spent in my company,” Jack was already digging into the meatloaf.

“Working around you, I have no idea. Did we cover it in a mission briefing? I probably still have the notes on it if we did. Maybe I should go review them.” 

“Putz.”

“So you said.” Daniel put his napkin in his lap and started on his own meatloaf, although not with quite the same enthusiasm as Jack.

“Teal’c would know.” Jack grumbled.

“Poor Teal’c,” Daniel laughed. “You’ve inflicted more bad TV on Teal’c than any man should have to bear. You just missed him, by the way. He’s off with SG5 checking out--.”

“Some new naquada mine,” Jack interrupted, “Yeah, I know. Sounds promising.”

Daniel and Jack spent the next hour talking about missions and gossip, about the Ori threat and Siler’s last trip to the infirmary, about the new Jaffa council and the latest batch of recruits, about where Ba’al could be hiding and the fact that Walter was driving Landry nuts.

Daniel enjoyed the talk. God, he missed this; he missed Jack. They’d spent a lot of time in this room drinking bad coffee, eating too much pie, and trying to solve all the problems of the galaxy. Today was like old times. It was a chance to talk and laugh and unwind. It felt good to see Jack sitting across from him leaning back in his chair, coffee cup in hand, more relaxed than Daniel remembered seeing him since he became a general. Daniel felt pretty relaxed himself. He reached back to stretch his hands over his head. It was tempting to just sit here all afternoon and talk, but generals didn’t come all the way to the mountain to eat pie and drink coffee with civilian archeologists. Reluctantly, he decided he needed to go and let Jack get back to work.

“Well, Jack, thanks for lunch, but I’d better get back to my office. Landry’s going to want that report on 277 this afternoon and I’m sure you have meetings to get to.” Daniel reached over and grabbed Jack by the shoulder. “Make sure you stop and say good-bye before you go, okay?” He stood to leave.

The change was subtle but definite. Jack’s head went down and Daniel could see Jack’s fingers tense around the coffee cup.

“Hey, everything okay?”

Jack looked up briefly before taking a sip of his coffee. “I heard about Mitchell’s friend, Major Ferguson.”

“Yeah,” Daniel said, sitting back down.

“How’d he take it?”

“Bad,” Daniel replied sharply. “I think it brought back a lot of bad memories for him.” Ferguson and Mitchell had been teammates and, from the little Daniel could piece together, Mitchell blamed himself for the injury that eventually lead to Ferguson’s death. No amount of talking on Daniel’s part had been able to change Mitchell’s mind about that. 

“He lost a good friend,” Jack said.

“Yeah, it was tough on him.” 

“I’ll bet,” Jack said softly. 

“I tried to get him to talk about it but he said he wasn’t ready yet. He wanted to deal with it on his own.” Daniel didn’t mention to Jack that, in his opinion, it was the ridiculous, stoic, “I can handle anything,” military mindset that kept Cam from opening up to him.

“Yeah,” Jack said, “it’s not an easy thing to talk about. Give it time. He’ll come around." He gave Daniel a small smile. “You have a way of getting to everybody, eventually.”

“Jack, you should talk to Cam while you’re here. I think he’d appreciate talking to someone else who’s had experience with this kind of thing,” Daniel said looking expectantly at Jack.

“Yeah, lots of experience.” Jack said.

Daniel wanted to kick himself. Damn, that was stupid. Of course Jack had experience with this kind of thing, going all the way back to little Charlie and Kawalski, and even before that. Damn! What a stupid thing to say.

“Jack, I’m so sorry. That was thoughtless.”

“It’s okay. You’re right. I’ve got a lot of experience--most of it with you.” 

“What?”

“You. You’ve died or nearly died way too many times and it was never easy to deal with or to talk about. Because the one person I could talk about that kind of stuff with was gone.” Jack was looking at Daniel closely.

“But I didn’t die, Jack.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I’m still here.” 

“Yes, you are.” Daniel was starting to squirm a little under the intensity of Jack’s gaze. 

“And I’d really appreciate it, Daniel, if you kept it that way.

“I don’t think Mitchell’s going to want to talk to me, Daniel. And…well…I didn’t come here to talk to him. Or Landry.” Jack shifted uncomfortably. He glanced at Daniel quickly and then looked down at his coffee cup turning it around and around in his hands.

“I came to see you, Daniel.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” 

“Oh.” Daniel was quiet for a moment trying to take in what Jack was telling him. “You could have called, sent an email. Not that I don’t appreciate your springing for this delicious meatloaf, but it really wasn’t necessary for you to come all the way to Colorado.” 

“When I heard about Mitchell’s friend, I….” Jack stopped, unsure how to say this to Daniel. How did he tell Daniel how much his friendship meant--that Daniel was still, despite the physical distance that separated them, the best damn friend he’d ever had? When he’d heard about Mitchell’s loss Jack had been reminded again how fortunate he was to still have Daniel around and in his life. The urge to see Daniel, safe and sound, in the flesh, had been almost overwhelming. Today's lunch had given him that, as well as a chance for each of them to relax, talk, and enjoy the other's company.

Yet, somehow, after ten years of friendship, ten years of life--and death--and life, he still couldn’t find the words to tell Daniel--

“Jack?”

“Look, Daniel, I don’t say this enough, and well, maybe I should—.” 

“Jack,” Daniel paused and awaited for his friend to look up. “Thanks. Me too.”


End file.
